


Protection

by orphan_account



Series: Comfort [3]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-28
Updated: 2013-03-29
Packaged: 2017-12-06 18:43:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/738896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Comfort' from Fili and Kili's point of view.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Missing

**Author's Note:**

> Someone suggested my fic 'Comfort' from the POV of Fili and Kili, so here it is!

Fili felt an unsettling sinking feeling in his stomach when he and Kili found Thorin pacing in his quarters that night.

Bilbo still hadn’t arrived home, and he was long overdue, having only promised to be out for a few hours this afternoon.

Erebor, although happily reclaimed, was still in the process of being rebuilt, and there were many places an unsuspecting Hobbit could lose himself in. God forbid their Burglar waltz into one of the abandoned mine shafts by accident... Fili repressed a shudder, not wanting to think about that.

“Still nothing?” he asked his Uncle instead, although he already knew the answer.

Thorin grunted a reply, barely masked concern pulling at his features.

“He’ll be back soon, I’m sure,” Kili assured, “he probably just lost track of time. You know how he loves the markets.”

“They are long since closed,” Fili reminded Kili. “He should be well on his way home by now, if not here already.”

“Perhaps he is- yesterday after returning he went straight to the library.”

“I have had the guards check the Palace,” Thorin was still pacing. “He is not within these walls.”

“Have any of the company-?”

“They have not seen him for some time now,” Thorin answered immediately.

“He’ll turn up soon, Uncle,” Fili spoke softly after a few moments of silence. “He’ll be fine. He has to be. It’s _Bilbo_.” Bilbo was always fine.

If Thorin had a reply, Fili never got to hear it, because the door swung open, hitting the wall with a loud thud, and a messenger ran inside, his chest heaving and his face red from exertion.

“ _Uzbad_ ,” the dwarf bowed deeply, “I’m sorry to interrupt; only your Consort has been found unconscious in the street.” Fili felt his heart rise into his throat.

Thorin’s head snapped up, and he stalked towards the messenger now. “Where is he?” he demanded.

“He’s been taken to Oin, your highness.”

Hearing what he needed to know, Thorin pushed past, all but running towards Oin’s healing room. Kili turned to Fili, wide eyed, and they both ran out after their Uncle, their guts twisting with worry.

Bilbo was unconscious on one of the beds in Oin's healing room, blood dried down his chin and neck, a bad bruise blossoming across his cheek. His shirt had been removed, revealing a flock of other bruises across his chest and stomach.

Thorin slipped into the chair beside the bed, grabbing hold of Bilbo’s hand. “ _Mahal._ ”

“What happened?!” Kili demanded in unison with Fili, who cried out: “Who did this?!”

“Two miners brought him in- they heard noises down the street from the Gamil Inn and found the little one being crushed under some stranger’s boot.”

“Who would even _dare_ to do such a thing?”

“We’ll find him.” Kili was pacing now, a snarl ripping from his mouth, “We will. We’ll find him and rip him limb from limb.”

“Where are the miners who brought him?” Thorin asked, strangely calm and silent. He kept his eyes on Bilbo’s small form, chest rising and falling slowly.

“They were given gold in compensation and sent on their way. The guards can go and fetch them in the morning if need be.”

“I would have them aid my men in the search," Thorin informed Oin.

“I’ll speak to Dwalin about it once I’m done here.”

“Will he be okay?” Kili’s voice was very small. He stood at the end of the bed, looking down at Bilbo.

He looked so small and broken and Kili wanted nothing more than to curl at his side and offer him any comfort he could. He was still in shock that someone could even think of hurting Bilbo. Sweet, kind, caring Bilbo, who was like a brother to him, and who he knew was just as important to Fili, and even more so to Thorin.

“He’ll be alright,” Oin pressed a comforting hand onto Kili’s shoulder. “Very sore, but fine.”

“We should move him to his room. He’ll be more comfortable there.”

Oin nodded at Fili’s suggestion. “Aye,” he agreed. “I’ll have someone do that just after I finish cleaning him up.”

Oin gently took care of the wounds, wiping up the blood and the dirt that had smeared itself over Bilbo’s face and body. After, he called for two of his assistants to move Bilbo to his and Thorin’s quarters, and went in search of Dwalin to inform him about the search that would be taking place tomorrow.

Fili and Kili hovered, watching as the covers were pulled up around Bilbo, dwarfing him even further. When the assistants left, they took seats around the bed, not speaking.

Fili sat next to Kili, holding his hand and rubbing his leg soothingly every now and again. Oin came in periodically to check on him, bringing in food and warm drinks to keep them going.

It was about midnight when Bilbo woke up, groaning while Oin was muttering comforts to Thorin’s deaf ears.

“Bilbo!” Kili cried, leaning over to watch his eyes flicker open. Relief was washing through him, regardless of what Oin had said, the knot in his stomach did not loosen until Bilbo’s eyes flickered and his fingers twitched. “We were worried you weren’t going to wake up!”

“Don’t be silly, Kili, he was knocked unconscious, not stabbed by an Orc.” Kili glared briefly at his brother, who had been as concerned as he was. But Fili was much better at hiding his emotions and Kili could see behind the clouded façade was a relief just as strong as what he felt.

“Shut up, Fili,” he retorted, “you were worried, too.” Fili didn’t reply, he just pouted slightly. Bilbo blinked a few times, clearly still out of it a little.

“How did I get here?” His voice was rough and his throat must have felt raw, because he put his hand to it, rubbing slightly. Kili started blathering on before he could stop himself.

“Some miners heard you calling out and pulled the guy off of you,” the thought of it made him feel sick. “He ever-so-bravely ran away while they were making sure you were alright. What happened?” Kili looked down at him. “Why were you near the inns when you were just going to the markets?”

He didn’t answer straight away, instead, as if resigned; Bilbo dropped his head back onto the pillow. “I got lost,” he spoke softly, squeezing his eyes tighter shut, as if trying to will away the memory, “must have taken a wrong turn on my way back here,” he let out a small, mirthless chuckle. “He started following me, and when I brushed him off he got angry.”

“Did you know who he was?” Fili asked, leaning forward. If Bilbo had recognized him, it would be much easier to find and tear into the dwarf.

“No,” Bilbo sighed, and Fili’s shoulders slumped. “He was a complete stranger.”

But… “Didn’t he recognize you?”

“Obviously not. He called me a ‘ _beardless whelp_ ’.”

Kili was on his feet without realizing it. He _what_?! “How dare he speak to the Consort of the King in that way!”

And he was clearly not the only one wishing to express his outrage. Fili’s hands were fisted into the edge of the blanket and Thorin’s face was twisted into white hot rage.

“His tongue should be removed,” added Fili, obviously delighting in the image of performing such a task.

“He should be stripped and flogged in the street.” Thorin would do it, too. Kili had never seen him look so angry, not even when he had found out Bilbo had given away the Arkenstone.

Bilbo released a long breath, looking weary. “Enough of that,” he scolded gently, “You can’t help it. People attack each other all the time. It’s just a split lip, and-”

“ _Just a split lip_?” Fili and Kili watched Bilbo’s body sag in resignation. Thorin didn’t even spare them a glance. “Leave us.”

“But Uncle-”

“Now,” they had no choice but to do what he asked, leaving the room and his Uncle alone with their Burglar.

 

 


	2. Searching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kili joins Dwalin to hunt for the dwarf who attacked Bilbo,

The next morning Fili took over his Uncle’s duties for the day and Kili found Dwalin to help him hunt down the bastard who had dared to hurt their burglar.

“When you find him come and get me,” Fili had told him before he’d left. “I don’t care what I’m doing- you come and get me.”

Kili nodded. “I will,” he promised.

They started around the area Bilbo had been found, weaving in and out of the streets that ran through the area like a spider web, pushing through the throng of people on their way to work or to the markets.

“Do you think we’ll find him today?” Kili felt anxious, trying to peer over the heads of the crowds.

“Maybe,” Dwalin could easily look over the people being more than a head taller than Kili. “We’ll check the halls next.”

It was about midday by the time they found him, with the miners in the lunch hall, standing at the end of the table, downing a mug of ale.

“I know him,” one of the guards said. “We’ve had to remove him from the marketplace twice for getting into fights.” They stopped in front of the man. “Uüfin, son of Uürin,”

The Dwarrow turned and looked at them, setting his mug down with a _clank_. “What d’you want?”

“You’re coming with us.”

“The hell I am,”

Kili had to repress the very strong urge to grab him by the hair and slam his head down onto the table.

Dwalin turned to the miners. “You’re sure it’s him?”

“Certain," he first one said.

“That’s him, alright,” agreed the second.

“Alright then,” Dwalin slammed his fist into the man’s face, knocking him out instantly. No one moved to catch him as he fell.  “Well, he deserved it, didn’t he?”

Kili managed to stop himself from laughing, but smiled as Dwalin grabbed the dwarf by the scruff of the neck and began to drag his unconscious body from the room.

“Let’s go,” Dwalin would never admit it, but he was just as attached to Bilbo as the rest of the company, and the thought of someone attacking their Burglar made him just as furious as everyone else.

“You’d better tell Uncle about this,” Kili said as they looked down at the dwarf lying on the ground of the cell before them. “Odo is still upstairs; we’ll take him to one of the meeting halls.”

Dwalin gave a curt nod and disappeared. Fili and Kili stayed in the cell for a moment,

Fili kicked him roughly, though he received no response. He muttered under his breath in Khuzdul and stormed from the cell, Kili following at his heels.

“It’s okay,” Kili assured him. “Uncle will want to come down once he finds out he’s here. Then we can wake him up.”

Fili, although still irritated, was looking forward to it.

They found Odo, hovering around the stairs that led to the cells.

“Dwalin said you needed me when he passed by.”

“The King will want to talk to you,” they said, reaching the landing. “We’ll meet him in one of the meeting halls.”

They walked down the halls, finding their way to the hall and waited.

They arrived within minutes.

Thorin entered, looking at Fili and Kili. “You found him?” he asked, though Dwalin would have already told him.

“He’s in one of the cells.” Fili informed him.

“And you recognized-”

“Yes,” Odo nodded, “It was dark but he was wearing the same clothes, and he was yelling at him when we pulled him off- I’d remember that voice anywhere.” That was good enough for Thorin.

“We’ll go down soon, then, and see what he has to say about it.”

“You found him, then.”

Kili jumped, turning to find Bilbo standing at the door, looking upon them with a frown and arms wrapped tightly around his torso.

“We did.” Thorin replied, stony faced.

“And you’re sure it’s him?” Bilbo wanted to know.

Kili turned to Odo as he replied. “Certain.”

“That will be all, Odo, thank you,” Dwalin took me miner out of the room, leaving them to talk.

Bilbo did not look impressed. “Were you lot planning on telling me about this?”

“We were, Bilbo,” Fili insisted, “we promise. Just that you would have gotten upset that we want to punish him,”

“He did something wrong,” Kili added earnestly, “he needs to bear the brunt of the consequences.”

“Of course he does,” Bilbo raised a finger, pointing at them, “but I know that look, the Mad Durin Look, and that means you’re going to get carried away with it.”

Kili was confused. Didn’t Bilbo want any sort of closure? “Well, what do _you_ want, Uncle Bilbo?” he wondered.

“I _want_ you to let him go.”

That wasn’t going to go down well. Kili could not accept that, and he knew Fili and Thorin would certainly not either. None of them would.

“He was a drunken fool,' Bilbo went on now. "I’m sure he’d learnt his lesson now. If you must keep him jailed for a few days, but for the Maker’s sake don’t injure the man.”

Thorin was scowling. “You forgive too easily.”

“And you don’t forgive enough.” The 'I forgave you' wasn't spoken, but hung heavilly in the air, making them all uncomfortable. 

Kili watched as Thorin pretended to consider it, knowing there was no way in hell he’d let him go. “If that is what you wish for,” he said slowly, “then that is what we’ll do.”

Bilbo sagged in relief. “Thank you.”

Thorin moved over to him now, offering comfort. “You should go and rest,” he touched his face. “I have a few more things to deal with and then I’ll join you.”

Bilbo gave a small nod. “Alright,” he moved to the door and left with a small smile.

“Are you really going to let him go, Uncle?” Kili already knew the answer.

“Bilbo feels that the best option. So I’m going to go down to his cell and break his hands for daring to touch my Consort.” Kili gave his uncle a wide grin. “Then I’ll let him go.”

_About damn time._


	3. Torture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the end, hope y'all enjoy it!

“Where were you two nights ago?” Thorin, a picture of calm, asked slowly.

Kili would have thought he was talking about the weather were his fingers not stained with blood and his eyes glinting with anger. He stayed where he was, against the wall, watching the scene unfold before him.

He’d mostly done his part, a few hits here and there, adding a little flourish when he took one of his arrows and stabbed it into the dwarf’s shoulder out of pure anger. Fili had carved into his chest with his hunting knife, making sure the wounds were deep enough to scar so that he’d know who did this to him.

Uüfin was sweating, beads running down his forehead and neck, straining against the shackles around his ankles and hands. “I don’t remember!” he insisted, eyes wide.

Thorin simply cocked his head to the side and spoke softly. “You lie.” Thorin was dangerous when he was angry, yelling and throwing punches, but he was far worse when his voice was that soft, deadly tone.

Uüfin must have known that. “I speak no lie,” he swore, shaking his head adamantly.

Thorin grabbed his pinky finger. “You lie.” And then he pushed it backwards, breaking the bone with an unholy snap that reverberated through the room. Uüfin screamed. “ _Where_. _Were_. _You_?”

“I don’t remember!”

Fili, obviously having had enough of this round-about conversation, stepped closer and looked down at him. “What _do_ you remember?” he demanded, upper lip curling in distaste.

“I...” Uüfin swallowed loudly, holding back the groans of pain. “I went to the inn, had a few drinks, and all that’s it, that’s all I remember. The rest is black, and I woke up with blood on my shirt. I thought I’d gotten into a fist fight or something.”

“You’re lying.”

“I swear to you on the graves of my forefathers, I do not lie.”

Movements quick, Thorin pulled his hand back and swung his fist, striking Uüfin  in the centre of his face. He cried out again, but it was becoming less satisfying hearing him scream but still deny the attack.

“Do not play games with me,” Thorin was very clearly feeling the same way, “I see the truth in your eyes. You came out of the inn in your drunken stupor and attacked an innocent person.”

“I did no such thing,”

At the denial, Thorin grabbed the dwarf’s shoulders, pushing his fingers inside the wound Kili had made. “Say it,” he ordered.

“I will not,” the other growled out.

Kili pushed off of the wall, kneeling beside the shaking dwarf. He ordered, voice rough, grabbing a handful of hair. “Admit it.”

“ _Say it_. Say the words out loud!”

With a roar, Uüfin finally gave in. “Fine! I did attack someone, some short whelp that hadn’t even grown into his beard yet,” Kili sneered at the words. “But I don’t see what the problem is; who I want to bed is my business. And my business is _my_ business, not yours, _King_.”

Kili got to his feet, looking at Thorin, who nodded.

Fili tested the sharpness of his blade on his thumb, waiting for the word.

“It becomes our business,” Kili hissed, “when you attack the King’s Consort, you pathetic, brainless, orc-faced warg shagger." Perhaps under other circumstances Fili would have laughed at the insult, but the situation was far too serious for that.

Uüfin’s face was priceless and if he wasn’t so angry, Kili would have laughed. “C-Consort?” he choked.

Fili grinned, though it held little mirth. “That’s right. That ‘short whelp’ that ‘hasn’t grown into his beard yet’ was Consort to King under the Mountain, and you will suffer the consequences of your incredibly foolish actions.”

“Fili, hand me your hunting knife,” The grin quickly became genuine at Thorin’s words and he obliged, handing it to him. “I disgrace you, Uüfin,” the man began to babble, pleading, “son of Uürin,” he tried to struggle, but Thorin held his head still, gripping his face tightly, “and your family.”

Kili watched his Uncle cut off the beard, disgracing him. He then proceeded to lean over, so there was no chance the dwarf could mistake or mishear his words.

“I made a promise not to injure you too terribly; Uüfin,” he said now, “but I made no such promises about your reputation. You are banished under pain of death to the outskirts of Erebor, if you dare to break this banishment for any reason other than to come to and from the mines you work at, you will be dragged by your dwindling beard by the guards to me. Is that understood?” After gaining a shaky nod, Thorin stood up straight, squaring his shoulders, looking satisfied enough. “Shave the rest of it, Kili,” he handed Kili Fili’s knife. “I want to see his face smoother than a polished gem before we release him.”

He walked to the door now, finished with Uüfin. “I will be in my quarters with my Consort if my presence is needed,” he announced, pulling open the door.

“Yes, Uncle,” Kili had never shaved anyone before, so his movements were clumsy (though a few cuts her and there were not remiss), but he did a well-enough job and he and Fili left, leaving the dwarf to his own company.

“That went quite well,” Fili said as they strolled towards their quarters. He seemed contented, pleased with himself. Kili’s body was humming with the same satisfaction.

“I think it did,” he agreed, “Uncle seemed to think so as well.”

“He must have great restraint,” Fili mused, “not killing the dwarf right on the spot.” He glanced at his brother. “I would have if it had been you he’d attacked.”

Kili grinned. “And I you, brother.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Syxx for this prompt! If you guys have any other prompts you'd like me to write, give me a shout and I'll have a crack at it.

**Author's Note:**

> Uzbad, as far as I know, means 'Lord' in Khuzdul.


End file.
